Crunchy Little Baby

I'm not crunchy, and I'm certainly not granola. But something has drawn me to a natural birth in a way I can't explain. Despite not being an organic/vegan/tree-hugging/hippie mom (choose your stereotype), natural birth makes sense to me. Don't get me wrong. I'm all about the pain meds and taking the easy way out. I don't think I'm going to be some sort of martyr for not having that lovely epidural numb the pain away. I don't think I necessarily hurt my first child, who came into the world with a lovely pitocin/epidural cocktail. I just want this next baby to be different. And maybe as much as all the other reasons to have a natural childbirth, I want control of this birth, where I felt stripped of it in the hospital.

My name is Sarah, and I'm pregnant with my second child. I'm starting this blog to chronicle my pregnancy, beginning to end, of a granola childbirth. That's right: this baby is going to be born in a tub. In my living room. If all goes according to plan.

I haven't told very many people of this desire. I've told my sisters, who were supportive. One sister had a c-section and, as she put it, felt "dehumanized" while in the hospital. The other sister is unmarried with no childbirths on the horizon, thank goodness. I've told my mom, who was shocked (she actually shuddered) but came around when I pointed out only supportive people would be invited to attend the birth. She's still dealing with it, I think, but there's a lot less gasping and revulsion involved. At least towards my face.

Of course, I told my husband from the get-go. In fact, from before the get-go as I've been thinking this out for months and I'm only 7 weeks pregnant. In a nutshell, he's been supportive. He is letting me make this choice, though we've definitely prayed about it. I've given him my reasons and the statistics, and given my dislike for discomfort, he knows I'm pretty serious about this.

I really haven't told many other people. My sister-in-law just had an unmedicated birth that didn't go as planned. Meaning, she was very intent on receiving the drugs but by the time she had gotten to the hospital, it was way too late for that. She delivered 20 minutes after arrival. I casually mentioned that I had thought of going natural for my next child and she mentioned, not unkindly, that she didn't think there was anyway I could do it, and I'd be begging for the pain meds. But I think there's a difference between a birth where you've prepared for nine months for the pain, and you have the option of laboring in water, and you're just... mentally ready (as much as possible) for a natural birth. A birth where you fully expect pain medication and are begging for it as they lay you down on a bed (the most difficult position to push in!), I truly believe the mental preparation is the most important aspect of the pain management. Given her situation, I would have been begging for pain meds too!

So with that under my belt, I'm keeping this granola kid under wraps for now. If someone asks straight out where I'm delivering this kid, I'll tell them, "Um, in my house." But to be honest, I'm worried that someone will talk me out of it, or make me feel stupid or neglectful for choosing a birth that is statistically as safe or safer than a hospital birth.

I get it though. 2 years ago, I was three months pregnant. My stance with that birth was "gimme the epi when I walk in the door." If you would have mentioned a home birth, I would have been internally disgusted and probably laughed in your face. Me? A home birth? Nuh-uh. But now I've gone through that hospital birth. I've been induced, I've had pitocin ramped up as high as it could go, I've had the epidural, and the stupid thing even fell out so I felt everything, and got a second epidural. Now, I know I want something different. I want a birth where I come away feeling empowered, feeling amazed at what my body is capable of.

So here I go, off into the unchartered waters (for anyone I personally know anyway) of midwife care, water birth, and giving birth at home. Wish me luck. I'm a little scared.